


Little Moments.

by Thrasirshall



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, On The Way To A Smile: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, implied PTSD, light humor, light humour
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-28 06:30:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7628671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thrasirshall/pseuds/Thrasirshall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short one-shot fics, in no particular order, about Rufus ShinRa & his Turks living in Healin Lodge after the events of Advent Children. Mostly light hearted and sort of everyday life kind of snippets. </p><p>Rufus is cured of Geostigma, but from my own headcanon - is still recovering from his injuries, and is disabled.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Country Living

Reno sneezed.    
  
“Odin bless you.” Rufus said automatically, not looking up from his papers.      
  
The redhead sniffled loudly, the sound like a behemoth snoring. Rufus continued to write, and silence fell upon the room again, bar the shuffling of papers.    
  
Five seconds later, Reno sneezed again. Rufus never understood why people felt the need to declare a blessing for every sneeze, so he wasn’t going to repeat himself.     
  
Ten seconds later, Reno sneezed several more times, and looking more and more like a disgruntled cat. The red fuzz he called hair seemed to  _ fuzz  _ even more.    
  
Rufus only had to glance up with a curious expression for Reno to explain, nose still pointed to the papers.    
  
“Hayfever.” Reno wiped his nose on his sleeve, “Nature ain’t good for me, yo.”   
  
Rufus only smiled, and with a pen pushed a box of tissues towards Reno, then got back to work.    
  



	2. Coming home

The scratching at the door had everyone suddenly pointing their guns, Rude and Tseng standing in front of Rufus instantly.  
  
It continued, until the unknown creature began to snuffle loudly. Then the handle was jiggled as a paw batted at it.  
Whatever it was about that moment, something _twigged_ , and Reno slowly walked towards the door, thumb flicking the lock -  
The creature stopped, but no more sounds indicated it had run away. The click was soft as he pressed the handle down, and opened it.  
Two big yellow eyes gazed up at him.  
  
“... I’ll be damned.” Reno gasped, and opened the door more, sliding his gun back into the hem of his pants.  
Rufus looked from behind Rude, and let an audible gasp.  
  
“Dark Nation!”  
  
  
She looked _awful_.  
Skinny and shaky, she bounded over to Rufus with the delight of a lost child to a parent. Her head buried into his knees, his hands cupping her ears. Rufus couldn’t help but put his forehead on hers, a happiness - a _relief_ he hadn’t felt in a long time.  
There had been so much going on that he hadn’t…. **Forgotten** , but he’d quietly accepted that she had perished when Meteor had hit and said nothing.    
  
“The things you could tell us if you could talk.” he said, stroking her neck. It didn’t matter that she smelled and had fleas. His hound was back. That was all that mattered.


	3. Marks

Tseng paused, and leaned in close – staring at Rufus’ eyes. He laid a hand over his cheek as indication for Rufus to be still.    
The blond was slightly perturbed after a few seconds, frowning, before Tseng sat up again, looking a little disturbed.   
  
“What is it?” Rufus asked quietly, thinking … well, all sorts of horrid possibilities.    
  
Tseng stared.   
There was a tint of green behind the pupil, bleeding into the blue of Rufus’ blind eye. Despite that Rufus had been spared from a gruesome end from Geostigma… it was a permanent reminder of what the Turk almost lost.    
Of what they’d  _ all  _ nearly lost. 

  
“Nothing.” Tseng shook his head, and laid back down, focusing on rearranging both of them for comfort.    
Rufus noted a while later that Tseng held onto him that bit more tightly than usual.  


	4. Doing your best

Getting Rufus to do housework, or chores in general had been…. Interesting, to say the least. At first, he simply wasn’t physically able to – that was understandable, and kitchen duties were an outright no.    
No one wanted Geostigma on their vegetables after all.    
  
But when the healing rain came and went, and the Turks were able to sleep without listening for ragged coughing - they were faced with a new problem.    
  
Rufus wasn’t  _ against  _ doing work – far far from it. He’d swept the floor and cleaned up when he was able, but…    
  
“… Sir, that’s… not how you peel a potato.” Reno blinked at the rather large chunks taken out of the vegetable that consisted of more potato than skin.    
Rufus blinked, before looking at Reno and how he was doing it, before returning to his own potato, now half its size.    
  
“…. Ah.”    
  
“I peel, you chop, boss.” Reno moved the bowl closer to him, and Rufus ignored the amusement in his tone.    
  
Rufus picked up one of the already peeled potatoes, “A better strategy.”   
  
Another time - food was scarce and expensive, and one evening it took Tseng by surprise when Reno and Rude came back with a box of freshly caught fish. They hadn’t even been told – just went and did, well, what Reno and Rude always done.    
  
Rude poured the fish into the sink, and he picked up plastic gloves.    
When Rufus could stand for short periods of time, he mainly helped with cleaning, and so offered to help Rude. 

  
When Rufus was given plastic gloves – they swore the colour drained from his face after a while when he had to pick organs off the fish. Rude tried to resist the urge to smile and help, knowing his boss would refuse anyway, but also felt a little guilty as Rufus’ face was that of someone  _ really  _ not having a good time.    
  
However, the sink had started to turn a rather dark colour, and when Rufus tugged off what was an intestine of the fish – black sludge suddenly poured out and turned the entire tub black.    
It had merely been faeces –  _ everyone  _ could smell it, but Rufus quickly pulled out his hands, staring at the water as if it were…    
  
Before anyone could say, or do anything, Rufus hooked a finger around the plug’s chain, and the drain chugged down the dirty water, revealing all of the fish again.    
For a moment, no one said anything, until Rufus swayed slightly, and started to peel off the plastic gloves slowly.    
  
“… I think I need to sit down.”    
  
It was Elena and Reno that caught his arms before his nose met the tiles. 


	5. Learning.

When Reno found Rufus in front of the television one evening, it was the food network of all things. Normally, television was like a hammer for Rufus, it knocked him out within minutes – but he was there, a slight frown on his face and a look of sheer concentration. Dark Nation snored quietly next to him, tentacle over his lap.   
  
The next morning had Reno waking to the sound of someone in the kitchen, earlier then anyone was normally up. Pulling on pants, and because habits died hard, a handgun into the back of the waistband - he found Rufus, still in his dressing gown, making breakfast.   
  
Or, at least _attempting_ to.   
  
“Mornin’ sir…” Reno locked and shoved the handgun deep into his back pocket,  “You uh… want a hand?”

  
Rufus stood, cane hanging off the handle of a drawer near him, and stared at the frying pan like it offended him. Dark Nation also sat patiently by him, yellow eyes glancing expectantly between Rufus and the pan. Her stump of a tail wagged eagerly.   
  
“…. No, I’m good. I think.”

  
Nonetheless, Reno stepped up; body craning to see what Rufus was doing, and sucked in his lips like a curious child.

  
“…. Lookin’ good so far, boss. Turn uh, that bacon though, that’s gettin’ kinda done.”   
  
Rufus did so, and Reno then noticed the plate of uncooked food next to a clean one.   
“You makin’ us breakfast?” Reno grinned, and Rufus’ eyebrow rose, sharp as a sword.   
  
“ _Attempting_ to.” He replied, looking back at the frying pan again, before looking at Dark Nation, “And you expecting me to burn something is _not_ helping!”   
The guard hound’s ears only perked up, head tilting. 


	6. Princely ways.

Some days, as Rufus recovered, he was confined to bed. At first, Reno thought that all of the blankets were understandable – to keep as warm as possible, ‘til Tseng mentioned how Rufus  _ always  _ had a lot of blankets anyway.    
The redhead mentally counted how many were on it, not really making any effort to hide what he was doing.    
A huge mink was over the bed, folded so it covered the person under and over like a sleeping bag, then a thick duvet, a bed cover over that – and finally, a long woolly blanket that covered the end of the bed for feet. Or Dark Nation, who was a giant mass of warm muscle curled up, one paw hanging off the side.    
Rufus himself – when sitting up with …Reno counted four pillows, had a blanket around his own shoulders to cover his arms, nevermind that the blond tended to wear a full set of sleep clothing anyway.    
  
“… sure you’re warm enough, Sir?” Reno grinned, ear to ear, before Rufus glanced up from his laptop – files sitting neatly on the bedside table.    
  
“Coffee wouldn’t go amiss.” He replied, nonplussed.    
  
Reno could only laugh, moving to stand “Yessir.” 


	7. Expression.

“ _Look what we found!_ ” Reno and Elena broke into the room, carrying a box and promptly setting it on the kitchen counter.   
  
Rufus, Rude, and Tseng all stared, glancing at each other before looking at the two expectantly.   
  
Like an overenthusiastic salesman, Reno gestured to the tattered box, “ _Expresso machine_!”

  
“Espresso.” Rufus corrected, studying the image on the box with intrigue.  

  
“Pretentious coffee in pretentious tiny cups.” Reno shrugged, still excited, “Either way, we found it at an abandoned electric shop in Midgar.”   
  
“And what, pray tell, were you two doing in an electric store of all places?” Tseng stood up to investigate, though he was equally as curious as Rufus if they were actually graced with the possibility of decent coffee after a rather painfully long time. 

Elena raised her hand as if in a classroom, “It was my idea – I was looking for supplies for us.”   
  
“Electric razors, that sorta stuff.” Reno added further, and glanced at Rude with a grin. The bald man, his goatee having seen better days, only cleared his throat.


	8. Forgetting the habit.

“You’ve put on weight.”   
  
Reno paused mid-shave, white foam dribbling down his chin.   
He gave Rude a confused tilt of his head, “…  _ hah? _ ”    
  
Rude just took his own razor – a polished silver blade that he’s had since he started shaving, and was one of the few things he’d manage to save.    
Keeping it sharp had been difficult ‘til Reno had found him a whetting stone, and Elena, bless her, had given him semi-decent razors to contend with.    
  
Reno continued to be confused, but by no means offended. He leaned on the sink with a haughty hand on his hip. His red hair, thicker and fluffier than Rude’d ever seen it, seemed to have a life of it’s own.    
  


“You callin’ me  _ fat _ , yo?” he grinned.    
  
“Callin’ you healthy looking.” 

  
Reno frowned, brilliant green eyes rolling to the side in thought, before he straightened to look properly at the mirror. He was in his vest, and realised it  _ fit _ him. His bare arms were, like all Turks, covered in scars atop of scars, though he had ones that were also within.    
  
What you did in your private time was none of the Turk’s business, so long as it didn’t impede the mission.    
If it did, it was your own stupidity. Still… Reno had his bad habits, even if he had since began to feel less inclined to continue nursing said habits.    
  
Ever since the world ended then, two years had passed.   
He only really drank these days, and that was when they’d to forcefully drag Rufus out by his wheelchair to get some badly needed recreation.    
  
Rude, as always maintained his silence, but without the sunglasses, Reno knew exactly what was on the man’s mind. He smeared off the foam on one side, and quirked his lip to look at his face. It was … full. Cheeks pudgy. His hair had become a pain to brush because there was  _ more  _ of it.    
  
“….huh.” was all Reno said.   
  
Rude leaned over the mirror and started to trim his goatee, and merely hummed in response.    
  



End file.
